


Timing is Everything

by SeemaG



Series: What Happens at the DTV... [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Department of Temporal Investigations, F/M, Fluff and Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24672316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: After leaving the Academy, B'Elanna Torres lands a job working in IT support at the Department of Temporal Vehicles. Things are going well until the day Tom Paris shows up in her storeroom with an unexpected delivery.This story is complete and will be updated regularly.
Relationships: Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Series: What Happens at the DTV... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783897
Comments: 66
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Rocky for aiding and abetting and then being kind enough to not only provide a most excellent beta but also the title.
> 
> This story loosely follows the events in [ Take Another Number](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22664635), but not necessary to have read that one first to understand this one.

B’Elanna Torres let out her breath in a sharp, fierce puff, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face. She stared at the open crates and then at the PADD detailing the contents.

“Not again,” she said out loud and then to emphasize her point, she kicked the crate. The impact hurt more than she expected, and she let out a string of expletives in rapid succession.

“You ok?”

B’Elanna whirled around. A young man stood there, blond hair neatly cropped across a patrician forehead, and his eyes a shade of blue that she couldn’t quite name. He wore grey coveralls and the red patch on the left side of his chest identified him as an employee of the Alpha Beverage Company. She could see a red hoverlift behind him, piled high with crates.

“This storeroom is for Department of Temporal Vehicles employees only,” B’Elanna said, not bothering to hide her irritation. She crossed her arms against her chest, _daring_ the newcomer to fight her on this. If there was one thing B’Elanna had confidence in, it was her right hook.

“Mr. Neelix told me to leave these here,” the young man said, tipping his head in the direction of the hoverlift. “There isn’t room for them in the cafeteria storeroom.”

It took all her restraint to not march upstairs to the cafeteria at that exact moment and wrap Neelix’s tongue around his neck. Didn’t she have enough problems managing the IT issues without worrying about what was going on in the cafeteria too? “And what exactly are those?”

“Drinks, juices, soda, water, coffee supplies.”

B’Elanna held up her hand. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to leave _beverages_ in a storeroom set aside for computer equipment?”

“I just do what I’m told,” he told her in a cheerful voice.

“Look, I don’t know who you are—”

“Tom Paris.”

“Tom Paris, then. I don’t know where you’re going to put those boxes, even if it was okay with me. I just received a new shipment of supplies which doesn’t match what’s in the manifest. Like this power source, it’s six years out of date and the wrong model,” B’Elanna said, waving the PADD in his general direction. “And so now, I’m going to have to spend the next three hours repacking all of this _stuff_ to ship back and then figure out how I’m going to explain this mistake to my manager.” She huffed again.

Tom looked at the stack of crates just beyond B’Elanna. “That’s a drag. Sorry to hear it.”

“Yeah.” She pressed her free hand against her forehead momentarily. “So, you’re just going to have to take all of those beverages somewhere else. I can’t handle those taking up space here right now.”

“But Mr. Neelix—”

“Mr. Neelix doesn’t control this storeroom. I do.”

They stood facing each other for a moment and then Tom slowly ventured, “How about I help you?”

B’Elanna blinked. And then blinked again. “What?”

“Look, we both have a problem. You need to get rid of those crates, and I can’t unload my stuff here until you do. And I don’t want to be late for my next delivery.” He gave her a rueful grin. “I’ve already received two warnings. If I receive a third…” he twisted his lips into a grimace. “Anyway, right now this job is the best thing I’ve got going on in my life.” He took a step closer. “Where do you want to get started?”

B’Elanna recovered her composure and said, “Um, well, first we’ve got to make sure everything on this packing slip—” she showed him the PADD “—is accounted for in the boxes. Unfortunately, the contract office here at the Department of Temporal Vehicles makes us order _everything_ from Ferenginar and you know how it is.” She sighed. “They’ll find any excuse to reject a return.”

“So, what’s the matter with these?” Tom asked as he eyed the contents of the first crate. Carefully he lifted a bulky black plastic object out; the bottom was rectangular, while the top was triangular, with a screen and a few buttons reminiscent of a LCARS screen. The object was not light, and B’Elanna was impressed by Tom’s strength. And if she was going to be honest, she had always been partial to broad-shouldered men. “Are these what I think they are?”

B’Elanna nodded as she moved quickly to take the object away from Tom; strong as he seemed to be, she didn’t quite trust him not to drop it. “Yes, these are the kiosks people sign in on.” She pointed to a slot on the front of the machine. “Once you sign in, you get a number and then the number gets printed out here, but we’ve had a lot of issues with the existing system. It doesn’t always assign the number properly and then there are long lines, which results in lots of complaints, and everyone blames IT because the numbers don’t print properly. This particular system was designed by the Bolians, but they’re using an archaic technology best suited for the turn of the century, but the design has been specified forever and ever and no one wants to grow through the hassle of recommending something else that could work better…” she shrugged helplessly.

“Let me guess. You recommended something else.”

“Yeah. The Andorians have a really cool kiosk system that has a tenth of the failure rate of ours and there have been quite a few studies showing how their DTV outpaces ours in terms of the number of licenses issued, but it’s the _Andorians_ , so…”

“I get it,” Tom said. “My dad’s in Starfleet and he’s always complaining about the Andorians and their technology, but I don’t get it. They’ve got the coolest flight systems around.”

B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “You’re familiar with Andorian spacecraft?”

“Yeah, I even did an internship on Andoria last year. It was great. What those guys can do with a nacelle—” Tom lightly kissed two of his fingers and made a flicking gesture. “The flight itself was so smooth, the controls incredibly responsive. Starfleet engineers could learn a thing or two from them.”

B’Elanna rewrapped the kiosk its original packaging, careful not to bump it as she eased it back into its container. “I heard that the Federation is collaborating with Andoria on a new generation of spacecraft. I’d love to work on those systems.” She squatted down and stared at the daunting task in front of her; there were at least 15 boxes sitting there and each one needed to be opened, its contents removed and inventories, and then replaced. “But for now, this pays the bills.”

“I know that feeling. So where do you want to get started?”

B’Elanna was about to answer when her comm badge beeped.

“Chakotay to Torres.”

B’Elanna unconsciously rolled her eyes as she answered. “Torres here.”

“My printer has jammed, and my computer isn’t working; the screen has gone blue and it says ‘manually initiated crash’. Do you know what that means?”

B’Elanna bit back a sigh. “Did you file a service ticket?”

“Well, I was hoping you could just find a moment to stop by,” Chakotay answered. “I’ve got a long line of appointments this afternoon and it’d really help me out if you could come and figure this out.”

B’Elanna lifted her gaze to the ceiling, counted to five, and then said, “Did you reboot?”

“Reboot?”

“Your computer. Did you turn it on and off?”

“Well, I was hoping you could look at it first—”

“Go ahead and power it off. Wait six minutes and start it again. If you still get the blue screen of death, call me and I’ll see if I can squeeze you in. Torres out.” She shook her head as she turned her attention back to the pile of crates in front of her.

“’Blue screen of death’, huh?” Tom asked. “You get those a lot?”

“Every day, but for some reason, Chakotay gets them multiple times of day. I’ve upgraded his machine multiple times, reloaded drivers, updated all of his software and yet…” B’Elanna grimaced. “And he _refuses_ to use the ticket system the DTV requires. I’ve told him a thousand times that my boss judges me on how many tickets I respond to during the day, and it doesn’t seem to matter.”

“Have you tried _not_ showing up?”

B’Elanna nodded as she sat down heavily. Suddenly, she felt really tired. “Yeah, but then he keeps paging me until I give in. I’ve tried to pass him on to other techs, but he insists on only me working on his machine. He says I’m the best.” She glanced down at her boots; the toe was now scuffed from the kick. “I guess that’s something, right?”

“Yeah.” Tom took a seat on the crate opposite from her. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. B’Elanna couldn’t but help notice the strong chiseled curve of his jaw. When he smiled, she had to admit there was something extremely attractive about the way his lips parted and revealed perfectly white teeth. _Get a grip, Torres_ , she lectured herself. It had only been a few months since she and Max Burke broke up. He was on upward trajectory in Starfleet, and it had seemed that as time went on, they’d had less and less in common. They had mutually agreed to be happy for each other and the next thing she knew, Max was showing up in the society pages, clad in his Starfleet dress uniform, his dark eyes sparkling as he accepted his first assignment on the _USS Equinox_. B’Elanna had told herself it didn’t matter. The stars were no longer her future.

“All right,” B’Elanna said. “If you could just mark off on this PADD what’s in each box and then ensure it’s in pristine condition—”

“No problem.”

B’Elanna watched as Tom worked. He took the ten crates at the far end of the room while she took the remainder. After ascertaining that he was capable of doing the task properly, she relaxed a little and went on with her share of the cartons.

“I’ve got to ask,” Tom said conversationally, “why are you guys still ordering from Feringinar if you know Andoria is better?”

“Because it’s the way we’ve always done things at the DTV,” B’Elanna said. She laughed a little. “When I got this job, I came in with all these grand ideas but my boss, he’s very set on the way he’s always done things and he believes working with the Ferengi gets us the best deal. He trusts the Grand Nagus implicitly.” She paused as she lifted the lid of yet another crate. “On the other hand, because these kiosks are _always_ broken, at least I’ve got job security.”

Tom furrowed his brow. “Now that I think about it, the kiosk was broken the first time I came to register for my license, but I did get the correct number the second time around.”

B’Elanna found this revelation intriguing. Most people protested at having to register with the DTV and the fact that Tom Paris might have a license made her curious. She decided it would be too nosy on her part to ask him directly. She’d been counseled many times by Human Resources that she needed to be more diplomatic, or as she translated it, _less Klingon_. “Have you had the chance to make any temporal excursions yet?”

Tom shook his head. “No, I actually missed passing the exam by one question. I said that when approaching a known temporal anomaly, it’s best to reverse direction and set a new course. Apparently, the answer is to fly parallel to the anomaly and then angle off when the temporal forces are at minimum.” He closed his eyes for moment, as if remembering. “I ended up arguing with the instructor about that afterward. I mean, what _if_ the forces never reach the appropriate level? What if you’re inadvertently dragged in? Isn’t it better to avoid it in the first place?”

B’Elanna’s eyes widened. “You know, I’ve made that point many times myself.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. I told my boss that it was an unfair question, but he just shrugged me off.” She replaced the cover, marked the box as checked on the PADD, and then turned back to Tom. “Temporal mechanics are tough to understand. The DTV’s official stance is that temporal mechanics happen, so you’ve just got to deal with them.” She shrugged. “At least the license helps you stay out of trouble with the Department of Temporal Investigations.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about those guys,” Tom said. “My dad won’t even talk about them.” He paused and his eyes narrowed slightly, crinkling at the corners. “But my dad doesn’t talk about much.” He looked down at his hands, knit them together, and then with exaggerated vigor, went about checking the next box. B’Elanna recognized a change in subject – however silent – when she saw one. “How did you get the job here anyway? I know it’s pretty competitive. Thousands of applications from around the quadrant.”

“A friend from the Academy recommended me to my boss. Apparently, they’re old friends.”

Tom jerked in surprise. “ _Starfleet_ Academy? You went to the Academy?”

“Yeah. For a while.”

“I graduated a few years ago.”

B’Elanna pressed her lips together. “I didn’t.”

Tom looked stricken. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

She waved off the comment. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not Academy material anyway.” She stared at the kiosk she was currently holding. There was a hairline scratch across the black casing. She leaned down, rubbed her thumb against it, but it didn’t disappear. She frowned. This was likely one that the Ferengi wouldn’t take back. She sighed and massaged her temples.

“What is it?” Tom asked.

“I won’t be able to send this one back and if I can’t return them all, there’s no point, is there? The fine print specifically says that it’s all or nothing. And if I can’t get a refund, then I don’t have the funds to try to get better technology from Andoria. And my boss won’t agree to support multiple platforms.” She put her hands on her hips, turned her face towards the ceiling. It was so hard to contain her frustration and she was annoyed that she was letting her emotions rise to the surface in front of a perfect stranger. She was about to explain when her com badge beeped again.

“Chakotay to Torres.”

She counted to ten and then answered. “Torres here.”

“The computer works now, but my printer is still jammed.”

“Did you take the paper out?”

There was a pause, followed by “Yes.”

“And you checked the ink cartridge?”

“It says it’s full.”

“And when you go to print, are you selecting the right printer?”

Another pause and then Chakotay said, “Let me check.” A few beats passed and B’Elanna noticed Tom was looking at her intently. “Ah… I accidentally selected the printer in Section 31. I think I got it now. Chakotay out. Thanks, B’Elanna!”

Without responding, B’Elanna tapped her com badge to close the line. “All right, let’s finish this off so we can figure out what to do about your delivery.”

“You’re really good at your job,” Tom said.

“That was an easy one.”

“You’re being hard on yourself.”

He sounded so earnest that B’Elanna stopped short. Slowly, she turned to face him. The expression on his face matched the tone of his voice, and she felt an unusual flutter in her chest. _Why did he have to be so cute?_

“I get that it didn’t work out for you at the Academy, but have you ever thought about enlisting in Starfleet?” Tom asked casually.

She shook her head. “I’m not great with rules.” She waved her arm, indicating the storeroom. “I get just enough freedom here that I don’t get in trouble. I can’t imagine what would happen on a starship.”

Tom smiled slightly. “I know what would happen.” His jaw tightened and he turned away slightly, his attention intent on his next box. “I pushed things too far because I thought I could get away with it. And when I was caught, I did the only thing I could: I lied. Once Starfleet found out, they discharged me. The son of an admiral unceremoniously kicked out on his ass. So, here I am.” His lower lip quivered. “Maybe it’s for the best, but I miss what could have been, you know?”

B’Elanna thought about the Academy. She remembered Max Burke. And then she looked into Tom’s eyes, that blue that defied definition. She knew exactly what he was talking about. But he was still a stranger, the guy who was responsible for making sure the drink machines at the Department of Temporal Vehicles were stocked. And she was the one who was responsible for ensuring the kiosks kept dispensing numbers so that the licenses could be appropriately processed. She took the moment to compose herself.

“We’d better get this done,” she said shakily, careful to look away. “You don’t want to be late for your next delivery.”

His grin was even wider than before, showing even more blindingly white teeth if that was even possible. She told herself to be careful, even though she knew it was already too late.

“I’ve been late before,” he told her.


	2. Chapter 2

B’Elanna dropped her backpack next to her desk and turned on her computer. As it was booting up, she decided to run up to the cafeteria to grab a coffee. The previous workday had run later than expected. After she and Tom Paris had finished with the kiosks, she’d helped Tom stack his boxes in the far corner of the storeroom. It was well after 2100 hours when she’d left the DTV, and after a replicated dinner of ramen noodles, she’d fallen deeply asleep, so deeply in fact that she’d overslept. Not wanting to clock in late, she’d ignored the grumblings in her stomachs and managed to get to the office with three minutes to spare.

The cafeteria was located on the first floor of the DTV building. It was a relatively large room with biscuit-colored walls and a white linoleum floor. Harsh antique fluorescent lights hung low over the long tables and benches and several holo-screens – perpetually turned to the Starfleet News Service -- were positioned around the room. There were a few people seated here and there – a mix of employees and grimly resigned individuals waiting for their appointments. B’Elanna had often eaten here because it was quick and cheap, even if the quality was lacking.

As B’Elanna neared the serving line, she wrinkled her nose. The scent wafting off the grills was certainly distinctive. Taking low, shallow breaths as she approached, B’Elanna eyed the yellow goop that passed as eggs and the thin strips of _something_ that could be bacon but also could be something else. She also recognized the Bajoran _hasperaat_ dish in one of the chafing dishes, but the dish’s lurid purplish hue gave her pause. Maybe she’d find some time to grab a sandwich at one of the cafes around the block later this afternoon.

She was filling her coffee cup when she heard someone call her name. She gritted her teeth, counted to 20, and then slowly turned around.

“B’Elanna!” Neelix called out gaily. He was dressed in his usual uniform of blue pants and blue shirt, with a grungy white apron over it. His yellow tufted hair was tucked under a hairnet.

“Good morning,” B’Elanna said.

“I’m so glad to see you!”

B’Elanna raised her eyebrow. Remembering what HR had said about her social skills, she mumbled something incoherently, but it didn’t matter. The Talaxian continued as if she hadn’t said anything at all.

“My replicator has stopped working. Can you look at it? It’s burning _everything_.”

B’Elanna sniffed the air. Come to think of it, there was a faint scent of ashes. “Did you put in a ticket?”

Neelix shook his head. “I was planning to but then I saw you and thought it’d be more convenient just to ask you now. Just think, now you don’t have to go back to your desk and come back. I know how busy you are, and so I thought if I could save you a few steps…”

B’Elanna sighed. “You really need to put in a ticket, Neelix. I’m way behind and my boss—”

Neelix waved off the comment. “Don’t worry about Mr. Carey! I gave him a free lunch yesterday!” He clapped B’Elanna soundly on the back.

“I really can’t do this now, Neelix. I’m way behind.” She pushed past him. “Put in a ticket and I’ll get to it when it’s your turn.”

“Can’t you make an exception—”

In exasperation, she turned to face him. “I made an exception for you _yesterday_. All of those crates of beverages you needed stored?”

Neelix’s expression brightened immediately. “I _knew_ you could make it work. That was an expensive shipment and I wanted to make sure it was safe. You _know_ what happens when you leave a few sodas lying around this place.” A wide grin stretched across his face. “If anyone could keep that shipment safe, it was you.”

“And now I’m behind so thank you very much,” B’Elanna said. “Put in a ticket and I’ll get to the replicator when I get a chance.”

She was about to head back to her desk when Neelix called her name. The man was nothing if not persistent.

“I just noticed. We’re running low on the _raktacinnos_ ,” Neelix said, referring to the sweet frothy take on the classic Klingon coffee that was by far the most popular beverage served in the DTV’s cafeteria. “Do you mind bringing me a box of them from the storeroom when you come back to fix my replicator?”

B’Elanna didn’t even bother to respond, but huffed back to her desk, where her computer had finally powered on. She quickly logged in and checked the ticket system. She noticed that Michael Jonas had already grabbed the first ten tickets of the day, and Seska had taken the next ten. That left just one for B’Elanna: Neelix’s replicator.

She headed down to the basement storeroom. She flicked on the light and carefully picked her way through all the boxes. While she did so, she thought about all the explanations she could give to her boss, Joe Carey, about her exceptionally low metrics when it came to answering tickets. Michael and Seska, for instance, weren’t responsible for maintaining the kiosks. And they also took all the easy tickets, like the password resets or replacing toner in the copiers. But she also knew Joe didn’t care about any of those things. He was very much a numbers guy and it was important to him that they hit their daily metrics.

B’Elanna stopped just short of the spot where she and Tom Paris had stacked all the boxes full of drinks and stared in disbelief. They were gone. Those boxes were heavy and there had been at least twenty of them. How could they had vanished? Who could have taken them? Only one other person had access to this room: Joe Carey.

She hit her badge. “Torres to Carey.”

There was a pause and Carey responded. “What is it, B’Elanna?”

“Have you been in the storeroom today?”

“No. Why?”

“I was storing some boxes for Neelix here and they’re gone now.”

“Maybe Neelix came to get them.”

“No, I don’t think he did. In fact, he asked me to bring him a box when I came to fix his replicator.”

“I saw that he put that ticket in ten minutes ago. When do you plan to respond?”

B’Elanna closed her eyes and blew a long breath of air out before answering, “I’m on my way there now.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that your numbers are running well below average. In fact, it appears that even Tal Celes has a higher average response rate than you.” An accusatory note crept into his voice. “You _do_ understand this is the type of thing that catches the efficiency monitor’s attention.”

“I’ll make it up today,” B’Elanna said, still staring at the empty space where the drinks had been. “Torres out.” She knew she should head straight to the cafeteria, but the missing drinks perplexed her. Had she been so distracted that she’d forgotten to lock the door when she’d left last night? Had she forgotten to make sure the shields were up to make sure nothing could be beamed out? She went to the workstation at the entry of the storeroom and checked the logs. Between the time she and Tom Paris had left the previous night and now, no one else had entered. Which still left the possibility that someone had beamed the shipment out. But once again, the records showed that the shields protecting the storeroom were indeed engaged, and in fact, had been in operational status at 98 percent strength for 325 days without interruption – a new record.

B’Elanna chewed the inside of her cheek as she contemplated. Minutes were ticking by and she really needed to get to the cafeteria. But what would she say to Neelix when she showed up empty handed? More importantly, she knew that Joe was looking for any excuse to fire her; this could be it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her personal comm device. Tom Paris had given her his number before he’d left the previous day, which she accepted out of mere politeness as she had absolutely no intention of calling him. After a moment of hesitation, she hit the ‘call’ button. The device vibrated in her hand and then she was looking at Tom Paris.

“Hey,” he said in a voice that was 50 percent breathy, and 50 percent silky. B’Elanna’s toes curled involuntarily. _Damn it, Torres_ , _get a grip on yourself._ “What’s up?” Tom asked.

“Something weird has happened.”

“Weird? You mean, weirder than usual for the DTV?”

“Yeah,” B’Elanna said. She glanced back towards the corner. “All of the drinks are gone.”

“What? Where’d they go?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be looking for them _now_.”

“That _is_ weird.” Tom’s forehead furrowed. “I saw you lock the door behind us.”

B’Elanna let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “That’s the first thing I checked,” she told him. “And there’s no way anyone could beam it out. I reinforced those shields myself when I first joined the department.” She didn’t bother hiding the note of pride in her voice. When she’d first arrived at the DTV just over a year ago, the shields had been weak and unreliable. She’d spent countless hours of overtime re-enforcing them, despite Joe Carey’s feelings that it was an unnecessary expenditure of effort that took time away from their _real_ mission - processing tickets. She’d even managed to reduce the amount of power the shields consumed, thus saving the department a considerable chunk of change. “I’m supposed to be on my way to the cafeteria, and Neelix wanted me to bring him a box of those _raktacinnos_ …”

“I love those,” Tom said. “Your classic _raktajino_ with a heavy dash of cream and sugar. I enjoy mine chilled with whip cream, especially on a hot day.” He licked his lips lightly. “Of course, that doesn’t solve your problem, does it?”

“No.” B’Elanna pressed her palm to her forehead. “These drinks going missing are really the last thing I need.”

“Look, I’m not that far away and I’ve got a box in the back of my flitter. It’s for another customer, but you can have it.”

“What will you tell them when they notice their order is a box short?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out. See you soon.”

B’Elanna headed out to the back dock and within moments, true to his word, Tom Paris pulled up in his delivery flitter. He parked it per regulation, and then jumped out. He was still wearing his grey coveralls but had a black leather jacket over it and was also wearing sunglasses. He waved at B’Elanna.

“Let me get the box for you,” he said. He pulled it out of the back of the flitter and then brought it over.

“Thanks,” B’Elanna said. “You’ve really saved my--I mean, I really appreciate your helping me out here.”

“It solves your immediate problem with Neelix,” Tom said, “but you’re still missing 19 boxes or so.”

“Yeah. I just don’t get it.” B’Elanna said.

“Did you look _everywhere_?”

B’Elanna bit back her annoyance. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, let’s go drop this off and I’ll help you look again.”

_Oh, for Kahless’ sake_ , she thought but then that thought was replaced with another; _why was he being so nice to her?_ Tom owed her nothing, and yet he had spent all that time yesterday helping her deal with the messed-up kiosk order and now he was coming to her rescue with a rush delivery. On the way to the cafeteria, they passed by Seska and Michael Jonas. Seska arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in B’Elanna’s direction but B’Elanna chose to ignore her, knowing that at some point during the day Seska would corner her for more information.

The cafeteria was nearly empty when Tom and B’Elanna entered and Tom immediately took the box of _raktacinnos_ to the beverage cooler and started unloading the glass bottles. B’Elanna glanced around the room, and not seeing Neelix anywhere, she removed the cover of his replicator. The issue was easily found: a blown fuse in the molecular reformer. She guessed Neelix had (once again) operated the replicator outside the standard specs while trying to create whatever new and exotic dishes he’d taken a fancy to. The last time this had happened, Neelix had been experimenting with some Deltan spices -- classified as a potent level one aphrodisiac. 

“You should really just stick to tomato soup,” B’Elanna muttered under her breath as she wrenched the burned fuse out and replaced it with a new one.

“What did you say?” Tom appeared at her shoulder.

“Sorry. Just talking to myself. This is the twelfth time Neelix has blown out the replicator. It’s because he experiments and this model of replicator—”

“Let me guess, it’s from the Ferengi—"

B’Elanna gave him a sideways look. “Actually, no. Orion.”

“Orion?” Tom looked genuinely confused. “As in the Syndicate?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me to explain it either, but anything more complex than a bowl of soup causes a meltdown in the circuitry. What the Orions do to technology is criminal.” B’Elanna banged the panel back into place with her fist. “Replicator, one bowl of tomato soup.” The bowl shimmered into place, thin tendrils of steam wafting off the soup. B’Elanna lifted it out of the replicator. “Looks good to me.”

Tom sniffed at it. “It does. How many types of tomato soup does this replicator make anyway? I’ve had a heck of a time trying to find a replicator that makes the perfect bowl.”

“I’ve never thought about it, to be honest.” She handed the bowl over to Tom. “Spoons are over there.” She pulled out her comm device and marked off Neelix’s ticket as complete. As she did so, she could see the stats. Vorik must have started his shift, because he’d already completed five tickets, and Tal Celes wasn’t far behind with three. Michael and Seska were still in the lead, with 20 tickets completed each. She sighed. It would be hard to catch up with them now.

“Hey. Everything ok?” Tom put down his empty bowl of soup. A little trace of the soup lingered just above his lip.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’d better get up to the storeroom. I could use some ideas.”

When they reached the storeroom, Tom stared at the empty spot, and then he shook his head.

“I have no idea. Everything I can think of, you’ve already tried,” he said. “But I think we’ve got some extra inventory back at the warehouse. I can see if I trigger our delivery system to replace the missing drinks—”

“Won’t someone notice?”

Tom flashed her a smile. “Trust me.”

She knew that was the exact wrong thing to do, but she really didn’t feel like she had a choice. Reluctantly, she nodded.

“I’ll call you once I get this figured out. Don’t worry,” Tom said as they exited the storeroom. They headed down the hallway and just before B’Elanna veered off into the DTV’s large waiting room, Tom stopped short, his eyes clouded and his jaw tightening. B’Elanna followed his gaze and saw that he was watching a woman in a command red Starfleet uniform at the far end of the room. Tom sucked in his breath.

“Do you know her?” B’Elanna asked, curious at his reaction.

“Someone my dad worked with. Years ago.”

“Aren’t you going to say hi?”

Tom shook his head. “No.” He scuffed at the floor with his toe. “It was a long time ago.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got to go. I’ll let you know when I’ve figured out your replacement delivery.” He turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

B’Elanna dropped her bag in front of the line of kiosks. It was about twenty minutes before the Department of Temporal Vehicles would open for license processing and so the rows and rows of plastic chairs were empty. By 0930, all 347 seats would be filled and there would be a constant traffic of applicants until the DTV closed at 1700 hours. One of B’Elanna’s many jobs was to check that the kiosks were in working order before the DTV opened, and then again after closing. In between, she normally would make at least half a dozen trips to repair the kiosks.

As she tested the first panel, she heard some sniffling. Frowning, B’Elanna glanced behind the kiosks and saw Tal Celes curled up against the wall.

“Tal?” B’Elanna ventured curiously.

The young Bajoran glanced up. Her eyes were red, her shoulders shaking. She still had on her coat, and her purse was nearby.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was around,” Tal said, her lower lip quivering. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, and then reached for her purse. “Just pretend I wasn’t here.”

B’Elanna bit back a sigh. Tal had always had a flare for the dramatic, but the young woman was clearly in distress. B’Elanna rounded the kiosk, positioning herself to block Tal from view. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, that’s clearly not true.”

Tal stared at B’Elanna with watery blue eyes. “It’s stupid then.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“I only completed six tickets yesterday.” Tal gulped in a deep breath of air. “Just before I left last night, Joe gave me a warning. He said if I didn’t pick up the pace, I’d have to consider other options.”

“`Other options’?”

Tal sniffed. “This is my dream job! But how do I keep up with Michael and Seska? They are so fast! I came in this morning and they already have twenty tickets each. Every time I log into the system, there’s hardly anything there. How I am supposed to keep up?”

B’Elanna crouched down next to her and awkwardly, patted Tal’s forearm. She wasn’t close to Tal, but she did share the sentiment that it was damn hard to keep up with Michael and Seska. “They already have twenty tickets each?”

“Yeah. The weird thing is, they only clocked in a few minutes before I did. It’s not fair. I mean, there’s no one here and so they’re getting a head start of me.”

“Well, if you want, you can help me with the kiosks,” B’Elanna said. “If Joe asks, I can tell him you were helping me today.”

“You’d do that for me?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “Sure.” She cast a baleful look in the direction of the kiosks. “But don’t thank me. These things are almost as annoying as tribbles.” She quickly ran through the checklist of items to complete to ensure the kiosks functioned properly, and Tal seemed to absorb the instructions. “We’d better get started. We only have a few minutes before the place opens and people get really upset if they can’t get their numbers. No number means you can’t get your application processed.”

The two of them worked together easily, with B’Elanna finishing four of the five kiosks in the same amount of time as it took Tal to check one. But by the end, Tal seemed calmer and more resigned to starting her day. As they left the area, B’Elanna thought she saw Chakotay waving at her out of the side of her eye, but she deliberately kept her eyes facing forward and went with Tal to the office space that the techs occupied in the basement of the building.

When she got to her desk, she saw Seska was already there. It was surprising, given what Tal had said about the number of tickets Seska had to take care of, but maybe Tal had been wrong about the number. Tal, after all, wasn’t the most precise of individuals.

As B’Elanna put her bag down, Seska whirled around her chair, and leaned forward, palms on her knees.

“So, I saw you with Tom Paris yesterday.”

B’Elanna didn’t bother to conceal her surprise. “You know Tom?”

“Sure. He’s dating Megan Delaney. Or it could be Jenny.” Seska dismissed the twin sisters who worked in accounting with a casual wave of her hand. “Come to think of it, maybe he’s dating both of them.” Her lower lip curled. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s not like that,” B’Elanna said. “He was making a delivery for Neelix.”

“Oh, that’s right. He works for that catering company now, what’s it called, Alpha Beverage?” Seska laughed a little bit as she reclined in her chair. “Used to be a hotshot pilot, but now…”

B’Elanna curled her lip in annoyance. How in the galaxy did Seska have all this time to gossip while also keeping her metrics up for the department? “Don’t you have work to be doing right now?”

“She’s already met her quota for today,” said Joe Carey from behind B’Elanna. “Which is more than I can say for you and Tal. You two are consistently on the bottom of the metrics, day after day.”

“I’m the one who works on the kiosks,” B’Elanna countered. “Nobody else maintains them. That _should_ count for something.”

“You knew you had a quota when you accepted this job,” Joe said in a business-like voice. “If you don’t pick up the pace, it will be reflected in your annual performance review.”

“Fine,” B’Elanna said. She quickly logged into the system and saw that there were no tickets to be had. Seska and Michael had them all, except for one that Tal had somehow managed to snag. She resisted the urge to turn around and punch something or someone. Tal was right. This _wasn’t_ fair. She whirled on Seska, but Seska was nowhere to be seen. And then she saw Joe updating the metric board at the far end of the room. Her name was on the bottom. B’Elanna gritted her teeth. She hated being last. In fact, that hatred of being last in _anything_ had propelled her to the top of her high school class; when she accepted the valedictorian title, for the duration of the five-minute speech, she _wasn’t_ the angry Klingon girl. But if she was going to be honest with herself, she was angry right now. Furious, actually.

“Chakotay to Torres.”

“What is it?”

“My video camera isn’t working.”

“Put a ticket in.”

There was a pause and then Chakotay said, “This is an easy one, so if you could just—”

“No, I _can’t_.” B’Elanna balled her fists by her side. “You’ve got to put a ticket in and _then_ I can help you.”

“You never made me do that before.”

“That was a mistake. You _know_ I’m being judged on the number of tickets I answer.”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes _all_ the difference. Torres out.” She took a deep breath and started counting to thirty. And exactly as she guessed, Chakotay pinged her again just as she reached 29.

“B’Elanna, can you come up here and show me how to enter the ticket?”

She sighed. “’On my way.”

As she emerged from the basement, her personal comm device buzzed. “Torres here.”

“Hey, B’Elanna, it’s Tom. I’m at the back dock. Can you give me a hand with these boxes?”

She blinked in surprise. When he’d left the previous day, he’d said that he’d find a way to replace the missing drinks, but she didn’t actually think he’d follow through and so quickly at that. “Sure. I’m on my way.”

When she reached the dock, Tom had already stacked all the boxes on the hoverlift. He gave her an easy smile as she approached.

“Nineteen cases with the exact count to replace what went missing,” he announced. “I can help you put them in the storeroom.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

“Any progress on finding out what happened to the drinks?”

B’Elanna shook her head. “No. I’ve had my attention on other things today.” She used her badge to open the dock doors and then stood to the side to let Tom and the hoverlift pass by her. Then she quickened her stride to catch up with him. Thankfully, they didn’t run into anyone on the way to the storeroom. B’Elanna used her access code to enter and was grateful to see that nothing in the storeroom looked disturbed. The spot at the back, however, was still empty. They quickly unloaded the boxes.

“Thanks for helping me out and so quickly too,” B’Elanna said.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, really.” She hesitated, diverting her gaze downward. “It’s nice. I mean, it’s the nicest thing someone has done for me in a long time.” Silence followed and B’Elanna felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had she said something stupid? She wanted to disappear. “Uh, I need to go. Chakotay—"

The corners of Tom’s lips twitched slightly. “What is it now?”

“His video camera doesn’t work.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to that.” Tom reached into the pocket of his overalls. “But I have something for you.” He handed over a small round device, about 3 centimeters in diameter. “It’s a tracking device. Stick it on the boxes and if they disappear again, you’ll have a way to find them.”

“Thanks.” B’Elanna took it and carefully turned it over in her fingers. “This is Tellarite technology.”

“You’re familiar with it?”

B’Elanna nodded. “I took a seminar with Commander Chapman at the Academy and I wrote an essay comparing Tellarite surveillance methodology with that of the Romulans. For a Federation member, the Tellarites seem to borrow a lot from the Romulans.”

“I took that class too,” Tom said. “Professor Chapman was tough, wasn’t he?”

“He and I argued a lot.” B’Elanna shook her head at the memory. “I bet he couldn’t wait to get me out of his class.”

“Chapman argues with everyone. He’s the type who always has to be right.”

“Except that he’s not, at least not all the time.”

At this, Tom looked amused. “Why do I think you told him exactly that?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Tom took a few steps and then turned to face her. “So why didn’t you graduate from the Academy? It wasn’t just about the rules, was it?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter now either.” She sighed. “My mother was right. I don’t have what it takes to make it in the Academy. I really wanted to prove her wrong, but I failed.”

“Is your mother Starfleet?”

“No, but my father was. That was all she needed to convince her it was a bad idea for me to come here. I never told her I dropped out.” B’Elanna chewed on her lower lip. “She was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“About Klingons not belonging with humans.”

“The Academy isn’t just humans.”

“It’s mostly humans.”

They stared at each other and B’Elanna got the feeling that once again she had said the exact wrong thing. But it probably didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like she and Tom were friends anyway.

“Well, there are plenty of humans who don’t think the Academy is right for them either,” Tom said finally.

“Were you one of them?”

Tom looked down at his fingers and then back up. “I didn’t realize it at first,” he said slowly. “I grew up with the idea that the Academy was where I was going to go, that Starfleet was what I was going to do. It’s not like I had actually made the choice, but it had been decided all the same. I was fine with it, but as time went on, I realized all I wanted to do was _fly_. I didn’t want to do anything else. Just _fly_.”

“Is that why you went to Andoria?”

“They have a great flight training program that’s affiliated with the Academy.” Tom pressed his lips together. “While I was there, I realized that there were options outside of Starfleet, but at that point, I was so close to graduation that I figured I’d just stay with the plan. Things would work out once I was assigned to a starship. Except they didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.” B’Elanna didn’t know what else to say.

Tom waved off her comment. “Don’t be. I’m done feeling sorry for myself.” He flashed a quick smile at her. “I know lots of places would love to have an engineer like you on their staff. That is, if you’re looking for another opportunity.”

B’Elanna chose not to answer that question. “What about you? Do you like what you’re doing now?”

“As you said, it pays the bills. Keeps me out of trouble.” There was a deliberate casualness in his voice. “And I get to fly. Even if it’s only a delivery flitter. I’ve even taken it down the coast. Not quite as satisfying as a 1967 Camaro, but it gets the job done.” He took a deep breath. “I better get going. Hopefully, whoever is responsible for the disappearance of the first order will leave these alone.”

B’Elanna placed the small device on the underside of one of the cartons. “I’ll be happy when Neelix makes space in his own storeroom.” She took a quick look around. Everything looked in order and she would double, no triple, check all the security systems before she left for the day. “Thanks again, Tom. I really appreciate—” she stopped as the door to the storeroom slid open and Joe Carey appeared.

“B’Elanna. I’ve been looking for you. Mr. Chakotay—” Joe stopped as he saw Tom standing behind B’Elanna. “B’Elanna, who is this?”

“I’m Tom Paris.” Tom stepped forward, extended his hand, but Joe ignored him.

“Did you sign him in?” Joe asked B’Elanna. “He’s not wearing a visitor’s badge.”

“He was just dropping off another delivery—”

“You know the protocols,” Joe said sternly. “You brought an unauthorized person to a sensitive area of the building.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to move quickly and—”

“You do understand I will need to note this infraction in your personnel file.”

“I do,” B’Elanna answered through gritted teeth. She started counting.

“It’s not B’Elanna’s fault,” Tom said. “She said she could handle it, but I offered to come with her. It’s a lot of boxes and I thought we could get done in half the time if I helped her.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you, but it still doesn’t excuse her incompetence.”

B’Elanna jerked to attention. Had Joe really described her as _incompetent_? Before she could stop herself, her fist made contact with her supervisor’s smug face. Joe’s surprised shout echoed in her ears as she readied another blow. Tom grabbed her, pulling her away. As she struggled against Tom’s grip, a curtain of light flashed across the room. As B’Elanna blinked the room back into clarity, she saw Joe clutching at his face, blood running from his nose, down his lips, and staining his uniform. When she turned around, she saw that the boxes she and Tom had just stacked were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

B’Elanna opened one eye, and then the other. The sun was shining brightly through her bedroom window, a sure sign that she was late for work. Except that she didn’t have a job anymore. She rolled over, burrowing her face into the pillow, and trying to ignore the incessant pounding in her temples. The headache had started yesterday within seconds of Human Resources arriving at the storeroom to assess the situation and then DTV’s chief medic appearing at the same to treat Joe Carey’s broken nose. Five minutes after the Human Resources rep arrived, B’Elanna had been escorted first to her desk to collect her personal belongings and then out the door, her badge unceremoniously ripped from her coveralls.

After a few minutes, B’Elanna decided she couldn’t ignore the pain anymore and stumbled into the bathroom for an analgesic. Within seconds, the headache subsided, and she went into the kitchen to replicate herself a cup of coffee. Perched somewhat precariously on a stool at the kitchen counter, she tried to figure out what her next step would be. She hadn’t felt this discouraged since she’d heard she was about to be asked to leave the Academy. She’d quit first, to avoid that humiliation. It had been Max Burke who had told her about his friend who had a great job at the Department of Temporal Vehicles.

“I’ll put in a good word for you with Seska. She is very influential with the manager of the IT department and from what she says, they’re always looking for help there. Apparently, the computers are constantly breaking down,” Max had said as they had walked down to the Embarcadero for drinks. B’Elanna had glanced at him sideways.

“That’d be great, but you really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. It’s the least I can do; I wouldn’t have passed Warp Dynamics without your help.”

It was a fair enough point and so she’d accepted the helping hand her ex-boyfriend had offered because it had been convenient, easy. Within three days of leaving the Academy, she started at the DTV as a level one technician, and now, just over a year later, she was rated at a level four. But what difference did that make? She was still out of a job. She’d been near the top of all of her classes at the Academy, too, for all the good that did her now.

B’Elanna leaned her elbows on the counter, taking deep breaths. Maybe it was time to face the truth. Maybe it was time for her leave Earth. Her mother had been right; this was no place for a Klingon. But then if she did leave, where would she go? She had no desire to return to Kessik IV, where she’d grown up, and she certainly did _not_ want to go back to Boreth, where her mother had put her in a monastery. The Klingon homeworld wasn’t an option, and she had no idea where her father was currently cooling his heels. No, if she was going to start over, she wanted to go somewhere entirely new. Maybe Cestus III, or even Trill; she’d heard wonderful things about the Trill homeworld. She was still thinking about this when her comm device beeped. It was Tal Celes.

“B’Elanna! Are you ok?” Tal asked her in usual breathless way.

“Yeah.”

“Everyone is talking about what happened yesterday.”

“I’m sure they are.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“That’s a good question. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Seska says she knows someone who might need an engineer.”

_Of course,_ gossipy Seska would know someone. She wondered if that someone was Max Burke. Which raised an interesting question: would Max help her out again? But even if he was open to it, B’Elanna wasn’t sure if she _wanted_ Max’s help this time around. At some point, she had to stand on her own, right?

Because none of this was Tal’s fault, B’Elanna thanked her for the tip. “Next time I talk to Seska, I’ll get the contact information from her.”

“Actually, we were all talking about the raw deal you got, and we were thinking you could come here for lunch.”

“I’m banned from the building, Tal.”

“Okay, then what about the Time After Time Café, right across the street? At noon?”

B’Elanna massaged her forehead. Really, the last thing she wanted to do today was have lunch with Seska and Tal, but then again, given how few (well, no) options she had, she might as well meet them and get the latest gossip; after all, she had nothing but time now. So, she told Tal she’d be delighted to join them and then spent the morning alternating between tidying up her small apartment and searching for off-world opportunities online. One sounded faintly promising - a shipping company was looking for an engineer for one of their transports.

She arrived at the café just before noon and got a table for three, and then promptly upgraded to a table for four when she saw that Michael had decided to tag along with the others. Seska immediately slid into the seat opposite B’Elanna, her face full of mock concern.

“How _are_ you?” Seska asked. Michael leaned forward too, resting his full weight on his forearms.

B’Elanna shrugged. _Play it casual, Torres_ , she thought. She had every certainty that whatever she said, Seska would tattle back to Joe. “I do regret losing my temper,” B’Elanna said carefully. “It wasn’t appropriate.”

“Joe’s not mad, if that matters,” Seska offered. “In fact, he expressly told HR that he didn’t want to press any charges against you.”

“That’s really nice of him,” B’Elanna said, even though she doubted the sincerity of Seska’s comment.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do next?” Seska asked.

“Take some time off,” B’Elanna said.

“I’m sure Max would help if you wanted me to ask him.”

‘No, that’s ok,” B’Elanna said quickly.

“Really. He would. Even though he’s dating someone else now.”

B’Elanna choked. It was just like Seska to kick her while she was down. But she demurred at the offer. They engaged in casual chitchat while waiting for their food to arrive, and then ate quickly. Michael in particular bolted down his food in record time.

“We have six minutes to get back to our desks and clock in, otherwise we’ll be marked late,” he said apologetically.

“You know how Joe is such a stickler for time,” Seska said. “I take my metrics very seriously, you know.” She gave B’Elanna a quick hug. “Good luck. Keep in touch. Let us know if we can help with anything.”

As Seska and Michael went ahead, Tal held back for a moment.

“Hey, I’m getting together with some friends from the holoprogramming league for drinks tonight,” Tal said. “It’s casual, just something we do after our meetings. It’d be nice if you join us. Maybe you can get some leads on a new job.”

B’Elanna considered. “I don’t know about that.”

“Just come for one drink,” Tal urged. “My treat. You helped me out so many times at work and I won’t forget that.” Her eyes sparked as she added, “Plus, my friends would love to meet the person who _finally_ got back at Joe.”

B’Elanna really didn’t want recount the details of her punching Joe Carey out to a group of strangers, but there was an earnestness in Tal’s eyes that made her say yes. After getting details on time and place, they parted ways on the sidewalk and then B’Elanna made her way home. She had barely gotten in the door when her comm device went off. It was Chakotay.

“What is it?” she said.

“I can’t remember my password.”

“I can’t reset it for you.”

There was a pause and then Chakotay said, “I put in a ticket, if that matters.”

B’Elanna took a deep breath as she went to the living room window. It looked down onto the busy street. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “I can’t help you because I got fired yesterday. I broke my boss’ nose.”

Another beat passed and then Chakotay said, “That was _you_?”

“You heard then.”

“Yes, but I didn’t—I mean, what happened?”

B’Elanna quickly explained, not leaving out a single detail. Chakotay made soft, comforting noises on the other end of the line.

“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” Chakotay said. “If there is anything I can do to help…”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“In fact, I’m happy to recommend you to a friend of mine. She could really use some help with--”

B’Elanna couldn’t help but wonder if Chakotay’s friend was as technically inept as he was, if such a thing was possible. “That’s really not necessary.”

“No, really, this would be a great opportunity for both of you!” Chakotay said.

B’Elanna hesitated a moment, wondering if she should really turn down his offer without at least finding out more about it. “What does your friend do?”

“She’s in Starfleet.”

“Oh, no,” B’Elanna said immediately. “Not Starfleet. Anything but.”

“Why?” Chakotay asked curiously. “You’d be _great_ in Starfleet.”

“Let’s just say I’m allergic to Starfleet.”

“Kathryn is different.”

B’Elanna raised her eyebrows. Did the inflection in Chakotay’s tone change? Who was this _Kathryn_ anyway? “That’s really nice of you, but I’m just going to take some time for myself right now, figure out what I want to do next.”

“You know what, I’m going to talk to Joe. It’s so hard to find good tech support—”

“No, don’t do that!”

“B’Elanna, it sounds like he treated you horribly.”

“He was just enforcing the rules.”

“Still. I’m sure he’d change his mind if I let him know just how helpful you were to me. In fact, I’ve been putting tickets in since yesterday and just once, someone showed up. A Bajoran woman?”

“Was it Tal or Seska?”

“Tal, I think she said her name was. She was very nice, but she just kept asking me to reboot my computer. Why does everyone always want me to do that?” the frustration in Chakotay’s voice was almost palpable.

“So, she wasn’t able to help you?”

“No,” Chakotay said. “You’re the only one who can solve my tech issues.”

“What about Michael or Seska?” B’Elanna asked. “Surely one of them has helped you in the past.”

“Who?”

B’Elanna frowned. “They are always down on the floor handling issues. They are very fast.”

“I’ve never heard of them or seen them. The department is clearly understaffed. I’ll talk to Joe and _demand_ that he bring you back.” Chakotay sounded indignant, a departure from his normally calm and unruffled persona. “Do you know the kiosks have had been down most of the day and no one is doing anything about it? The lines are extremely long and it’s unlikely we will be able to able to process everyone through before closing time today and that means the efficiency monitor is going to notice.”

Imagining the waiting room crowded with people impatient to get the license that would help them navigate the headache-inducing phenomena of temporal anomalies, B’Elanna was suddenly very glad that she had been fired. If she never had to take apart one of those Ferengi-made kiosks again, it would be too soon.

“You should definitely tell Joe about those,” B’Elanna said, imagining Joe’s consternation when he realized that the kiosks were inoperable and that there was no one left in the tech department who would be able to repair them. In a way, the malfunctioning kiosks were her parting gift to the DTV. “Good-bye, Chakotay.”

“B’Elanna—”

But she’d already hung up, feeling a bit gleeful. Quickly she picked up her PADD and looked at the job posting for the engineer on a transport ship again. This could be perfect. She would oversee her own engine room and the transport would take her far away from Earth. She could start all over again, in a new place where no one knew her. She quickly started getting the items for the application organized and before she knew it, it was time to meet Tal.

Her route to the restaurant where they were meeting took her near the DTV and B’Elanna kept her head down, hoping not to run into anyone she knew from the office. She was about 100 meters away from the restaurant door when she saw a familiar figure standing there. She blinked. It was Tom Paris. He was dressed in nice jeans and a brightly colored shirt beneath a brown vest. Had Tal invited Tom? It didn’t make any sense. She was about to call out to him when she saw a brunette, clad in a red and white sun dress, approach Tom. The two hugged and then Tom opened the door and gestured for the woman to enter before him.

B’Elanna stopped short. She had a funny feeling in her stomach, and she didn’t quite know why. She and Tom weren’t really friends, and it wasn’t any of her business who he had dinner with. Still, the disappointment she felt was acute. She turned away. She wasn’t in the mood for drinks anymore. 


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, B’Elanna woke with a renewed sense of purpose. She made herself a big pot of coffee and thought about how nice it was to drink it and not feel rushed to be anywhere. This feeling of freedom was refreshing. For the first time in her life, she had no one to answer to, no rules to follow. After coffee, she decided to go for a run. Even though she normally gave Starfleet Academy and its cadets a wide berth, on this day she ran through Golden Gate Park. There was a brisk breeze whipping up off the bay, and the clouds floated high above. It was a gorgeous, exhilarating day – perfect to be outside.

She slowed to a jog and then stopped in the shadow of the famous Golden Gate Bridge. Hands on her hips, she stared at the famous bridge, admiring its span. If all went according to plan, in a matter of days she would be gone from San Francisco and she would never take in this breathtaking vista again.

She ordered breakfast at a coffee shop afterward and then walked home, coffee and croissant in hand. Every step felt lighter and oddly enough, the rows of townhouses that she’d passed a thousand times before all looked new, interesting. It was as if she was seeing the world around her for the first time. She was so lost in thought that she was unaware of the flitter gliding nearby until she heard someone call her name. She dropped her coffee, the hot beverage spilling in a puddle in front of her. She swore in Klingon under her breath.

“Sorry!” Tom Paris said breathlessly from the flitter. He was wearing his delivery uniform – sleeves rolled up to just above the elbow –with the leather jacket from a couple of days ago nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell did you do that for?” B’Elanna demanded.

“I just wanted to see how you were.”

“I _was_ fine until you sneaked up on me.”

“Flitters don’t sneak!”

B’Elanna snorted. “Then why are you following me?”

At this, Tom laughed. “I had a delivery to make in this area and I saw you walking.” His expression softened as he looked at her. “I was worried about you. You know, after you punched out your boss? I have to say, that was really something.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok, have it your way.” Tom shrugged.

B’Elanna started walking and the flitter followed her slowly. She turned in exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Depend on who you ask, it’s either my best or worst quality,” Tom said easily. “Hey, why don’t you hop in? I’ll drop you to wherever it is you’re going. I promise, you don’t have to talk.” With the faintest hint of a grin, he added, “Also, I have an extra box of _raktacinnos_ in the back. Consider it an apology for the spilled coffee.”

B’Elanna glanced at the flitter and then at the steep incline that she’d have to conquer to get home. Her legs _were_ feeling sore after her run. Her better angels also told her it wasn’t a good idea to get into a flitter with Tom Paris, but then again, her better angels hadn’t exactly been looking out for her as of late. She got into the flitter, crossing her arms against her chest, maintaining a straight and rigid posture as Tom lifted the craft into the air again.

“Where to?” Tom asked easily.

B’Elanna gave him her address and then settled back into her seat.

“It’s really lucky I was coming this way,” Tom said conversationally. “I actually detoured to a Bajoran restaurant just around the corner to make a delivery. Do you know it?”

“I’ve been there once or twice. It’s ok.”

“The _hasperaat_ can be dry, though still an improvement over Neelix’s version.” Tom coughed slightly, as if in memory. “Anyway, usually I swing by the DTV first, but a friend of mine works in Accounting and she said they’ve actually delayed opening this morning because the kiosks won’t dispense the numbers. So, I changed my route, getting my other deliveries in, and then I’ll circle back and see if they’re ready to open yet.” He glanced at her sideways. “Sounds like they’re in a bad way over there. Thought you’d be interested.”

“Thanks.” B’Elanna thought about the people who had made their appointments to get licensed to deal with temporal anomalies and how annoyed they would be to have to return at another time. She also knew that for a certain segment of Starfleet, every day without a valid license to deal with temporal phenomena was nerve-wracking. While she felt bad for those people, she had also come to the realization that this was _not_ her problem anymore. If Joe had only listened to her about the right technology to implement, the unreliable kiosks would not be an issue now. “I don’t miss those things.”

Tom looked at her thoughtfully as he slowed the flitter. “No,” he said, “I don’t suppose you do.” He sighed as he looked forward through the view screen. “Traffic in this area is terrible. I came up with some more efficient routes for handling the load, but I was vetoed. My company has a policy that we can only make right turns.”

B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “Only right turns?”

“Yup,” Tom said, as the flitter came to a stop behind a long line of other hovering craft. “It’s safer, which I agree with, but every now and then, it’s more efficient to make a left turn.” He leaned forward to check the traffic situation. “Sorry. I guess I thought it’d be faster if I took you home.”

B’Elanna shrugged. “The only thing I had on my schedule for today was applying for a new job.”

“Really? Anything good?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about working as an engineer for a transport company. Not as glamourous as a starship, but it would be more along the lines of what I want to do. Besides, I’d like to see more of the galaxy.”

“So, you’d leave San Francisco?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly in timbre.

“If I got it, yes. There’s nothing for me here.”

Tom turned his attention back to the traffic. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It’s really what’s best for me.” B’Elanna looked out the window. She would miss looking at the ‘painted ladies’, as the colorful houses lining the streets of San Francisco were known. “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to fit in, and it’s about time I faced the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m a coward, that I’ve been running from who I really am my entire life. It’s why I thought I could be successful at the Academy,” B’Elanna said.

“You can’t let a bad experience with Professor Chapman define you or let what your mother said make you quit before you even try!”

“It just isn’t just about getting kicked out of the Academy.” B’Elanna looked down at her fingers. “Anyway, it’s not important.”

“It _is_ important, because it’s part of who you are.”

B’Elanna turned to him, suddenly annoyed. “Are you always this sanctimonious?”

Tom edged the flitter slightly forward. “Um, not always. The other day, I went at least a few minutes before sharing my unsolicited opinion.”

B’Elanna huffed, now doubly regretting her decision to get into the flitter. They weren’t too far from her apartment and she wasn’t in the mood for any more lectures from Tom Paris. _This_ was a perfect example of what she’d always found so challenging about relationships with humans – even Max Burke. They always claimed to understand her when they really didn’t. “Maybe you should let me out here. I can walk the rest of the way.”

Tom glanced out the window. “It’s going to be hard to pull over to a safe spot to let you out with all of this traffic. Look, we’re almost there and things have started to move again.”

B’Elanna leaned forward to see for herself; as far as she could tell, the traffic had come to a complete standstill. It was clear that she and Tom very much differed on the definition of ‘move.’

But before she could say anything, Tom said quickly, “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing. I was just trying to be a friend. You’ve had a rough time of it in the last couple of days and I was hoping to make you feel better.”

B’Elanna considered. They’d only known each other two days and he considered a friend? Even if he was using the term a bit more generously than she would have, she _did_ appreciate it. She could tell that the warmth infusing his voice was genuine. She didn’t trust most people, but she was starting to – against her better judgement -- convince herself that Tom Paris was different, and she could certainly use more friends. Aloud, she said, “I’m not used to admitting I’m wrong, so I’m sorry too.”

“So, this job you’re looking at, do they need a pilot?”

B’Elanna blinked. “I don’t know, but if they contact me, I can certainly ask.” She leaned against the bulkhead, focusing her attention on Tom. “If you have your DTV license, most people would be happy to have you.”

“It does help,” Tom said. With a quick grin, he said, “Hold on!” The flitter angled to the side and the engines roared to life. B’Elanna grabbed the handle on the bulkhead to keep from slipping out of her seat. The flitter righted itself a few seconds later. She turned in surprise to Tom. He just shrugged. “I saw an opening and took it.”

“You made a left turn,” B’Elanna couldn’t help pointing out.

“The alternative is sitting in that traffic and getting increasingly late for my deliveries,” he said, but the easy tone of his voice contrasted with his tense expression.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he said. “The company logs every time they think I’m flying unsafely, and I’ve already had one violation this month. I’m allowed six violations a month; they issue a warning after the first three.” Tom set his jaw. “It’s a flitter, not a starship…”

There was a wistfulness in his voice that caught B’Elanna’s attention. For all his brave words, he clearly wouldn’t relish the end of his employment at ABC. “Do you want me to pass on the information about the job?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Tom said. “I grew up here on Earth, but it’s never felt less like home than it does now. Everywhere I look is a reminder of what could have been if I hadn’t made the biggest mistake of my life.”

B’Elanna felt a sudden wave of compassion for him. She’d been so intent on her own woes that she hadn’t realized that she and Tom had more in common than she would have guessed. “Maybe it’s not too late,” she ventured cautiously.

“I hope you’re right. I just want to fly again.” He took a deep breath, leaned forward. “Ah, looks like things are easing up now.” He flashed an easy grin that didn’t quite reach to the corner of his eyes. “Shouldn’t be long to get you home.”

The flitter moved at a steady pace now, and because of the detour Tom had made to avoid the traffic jam, he would have to double back to return to B’Elanna’s apartment. But now that they had seemed to reach a truce, it didn’t bother B’Elanna as much. In fact, she started to relax a little bit in her seat. The activity of the morning finally caught up to her and combined with the gentle murmur of the flitter’s engines, she found herself dozing off. An incessant beeping in her left pocket jerked her back awake. Fumbling, she pulled out her comm device. “Sorry about the noise,” she said as she glanced down at the screen to check the notification, and what she saw confused her. She looked again. A few mental computations and she was still in disbelief.

“What is it? Is everything ok?” Tom asked.

“Remember the tracker we put on one of the boxes in the storeroom?” B’Elanna asked. “It just came into range…”

“That’s great! We can figure out who’s stealing the drinks now!”

“That’s just it,” B’Elanna said. “If I’m right about what I’m seeing here, _no one_ is stealing the drinks.” She shook her head. “This doesn’t make any _sense_.” Tom looked confused, and B’Elanna was momentarily distracted from the problem at hand by noting just how _cute_ he looked when confused, but then she once again brought her attention back to her device and the unusual readings. “You said you still have to make a delivery to the DTV today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming with you.” She set her jaw firmly. “You’re going to get me inside.”

Tom grinned. “Now that’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”


	6. Chapter 6

B’Elanna held tight to the bulkhead with one hand as Tom navigated expertly through the San Francisco traffic, pushing the physical boundaries of what a flitter could accomplish. At one point, he glided the craft above the traffic while angled to the side; thankfully, their safety belts kept them in place. B’Elanna marveled at the feat; who knew a flitter could be so maneuverable? Their luck at not getting into an accident seemed to hold as no traffic officers pulled them over.

While Tom concentrated on getting them to the DTV, B’Elanna kept running through mental calculations based on the data from the tracker. Every single time, she came back to the same conclusion. She was so intent on what she was doing, she barely registered when Tom smoothly piloted the flitter into the delivery docking bay at the DTV.

“Here we are,” he announced. He immediately signaled for entry, telling the security guard he was there with a delivery for Neelix. B’Elanna kept her face turned away, hoping no one recognized her. When she’d been unceremoniously marched out of the building by Human Resources, she’d also been banned from the DTV premises. She recognized she was taking a risk by returning, but if her theory was correct, she knew letting Joe know what was happening was the correct decision.

The flitter hatch opened and B’Elanna jumped out. She caught Tom’s eye. “I’m sorry about all the violations you’re about to get,” she said.

He shrugged but his smile was broad. “Are you kidding me? This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Whatever happens, it’ll be worth it.” He grabbed a box out of the back of the flitter and B’Elanna followed his lead, using the package to block her face from view. She stayed close to Tom as he scanned his vendor badge and the back door opened. Just inside, they ducked into a small alcove. B’Elanna showed Tom her device. His brow furrowed in adorable confusion.

“If this is what I think it is…” he said.

B’Elanna nodded. “We’ve got to get down to the storeroom.” She pondered. “If I could get in touch with Tal Celes, maybe she’d let us in.” With that, she quickly contacted Tal on the comm. As she thought, Tal was willing to help, albeit a bit reluctantly.

“Meet me at the bottom of the stairs,” Tal said finally, in a low voice. “I’ll take you around the back way.”

“Sounds good,” B’Elanna said, even though she thought the exact opposite. The route Tal indicated would mean crossing in front of the cafeteria and it was lunchtime; it would be impossible to get through that crowded area without being seen by anyone. But she heaved up her box and led the way, Tom close behind her. 

As they neared the meeting point, someone decidedly female called out Tom’s name. B’Elanna whirled in surprised, nearly dropping the box on her foot. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jenny Delaney rushing towards them.

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here today?” Jenny demanded.

Tom flushed pink. “Uh, I had a busy delivery schedule and if you, um, don’t mind—” his sentence was cut off by another person calling his name.

B’Elanna’s eyes widened. The longer they stood here, the more likely it was that she would be spotted. She could only hide behind a box of _raktacinnos_ for so long. The new arrival was the Starfleet officer whom Tom had said worked with his father. And then, to B’Elanna’s immense surprise, Chakotay was trailing the officer.

“B’Elanna?” Chakotay asked.

_Kahless_. Feeling defeated, B’Elanna lowered the box. “Hello, Chakotay.”

“Tom, what are you doing here?” the Starfleet officer asked. The rank bar on her collar indicated she was an admiral.

“I’m asking him the same thing!” Jenny said indignantly.

The officer whirled on Jenny. “And you are?”

“Jenny Delaney, Accounting.”

“Kathryn Janeway,” the admiral said coolly. “Tom, it _is_ a surprise to see you.”

Tom’s face had turned an even deep shade of pink. “Admiral, I was just making a delivery—”

“You never told me the DTV was on your route today!” Jenny shrieked, her voice pitched so high B’Elanna fought the urge to cover her ears with her hands.

“Sorry. I just wanted to get in and out and B’Elanna—”

“Yes, what are _you_ doing here?” Jenny asked, glaring at B’Elanna. “Didn’t you get fired and marched out of here the other day?” She reached for her comm device, but Tom moved more quickly and grabbed her wrist.

“Hey,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t alert security.”

“That woman is a menace!” Jenny exclaimed.

“I don’t want to be here anymore than you do,” B’Elanna said. “But there’s something unusual going on in the IT storeroom and—”

“B’Elanna!” Tal came running. “Sorry, I was late, but Joe—” Tal skidded to a stop as she surveyed the assembled group.

“It’s all right,” B’Elanna said. She put the box down and pulled her comm device out of her pocket. “Some boxes I was storing for Neelix disappeared, and now they’re back. If I’m right about what’s going on, then the higher ups here at the DTV are going to want to know about it.” She showed Tal the device. “Do you see the resonance values? The angles of velocity?”

Tal looked confused. “I do, but—”

“Can I take a look?” Janeway asked.

B’Elanna blinked in surprise but then nodded. She showed Janeway the data and the admiral’s brow wrinkled in concentration.

“If I’m reading this correctly,” the admiral said slowly. B’Elanna held her breath in anticipation of Janeway’s next words. “What we’re looking at is a concentration of—” she paused and then in unison, she and B’Elanna said, “Chroniton particles.”

Janeway added, “The question is, where are they coming from?”

Chakotay jerked in surprise. “If there are chroniton particles, then that means—”

“There’s a temporal anomaly in the storeroom,” Tom said.

“That’s impossible!” Tal burst out. “The DTV is specifically protected _against_ temporal phenomena.”

“But apparently the technology missed a spot in the storeroom,” B’Elanna said. She glared in Jenny’s direction. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to check this out.” Without waiting for a response, she bounded down the stairs, two at a time, with the admiral at her heels. Chakotay in turn followed closely after Janeway, with Jenny in hot pursuit of Tom who followed B’Elanna.

At the door, B’Elanna caught her breath as she waited for Tal to punch in the security code. The doors swished open and then, at the back of the room, B’Elanna spotted the boxes stacked high in the very corner they had disappeared from in the first place. At first glance, it seemed as if they were _all_ back, including the second set that Tom had brought to replace the first ones that had disappeared. But Tom shook his head.

“The _raktacinnos_ are still missing!” he exclaimed. “There should be eight boxes of those, but none of them are here.”

“So, they are still wherever—” Chakotay began.

“Do you have any idea of where the boxes went?” Janeway asked, fixing her gaze on B’Elanna. “Or rather, _when_?”

B’Elanna reached her hand towards Tal. “Could I borrow your tricorder?”

“Sure.”

B’Elanna quickly ran a few scans and then using the data, she computed an approximate timeframe. “It appears as if these boxes traveled anywhere between 350 and 375 years into the past. Something was specifically pulling them in…” She looked at Janeway apologetically. “I can’t triangulate it better than that at the moment but—”

“What’s going on?” Joe Carey burst into the storeroom, nearly knocking over Jenny Delaney. His jaw tightened as he took in the scene. “None of you are authorized to be in here!”

Janeway lifted her eyebrow. “Who are you?”

“I’m Joe Carey, head of the Information Technology group here at the DTV. This area has restricted access.” Joe puffed his chest out a little bit, squared his shoulders back. “Admiral, I’m going to have to ask you leave.”

B’Elanna gaped. She might have gotten kicked out of Starfleet Academy, but even _she_ knew that one didn’t just order an admiral around. Tom’s expression revealed that he was thinking the same thing, and Janeway herself looked decidedly unamused.

“I’m afraid, Mr. Carey, that I need to ignore your request.” Janeway tipped her head in B’Elanna’s direction. “I understand that you have had an unauthorized temporal event occurring in your storeroom.”

Joe gaped. “That’s not possible! The DTV is specifically protected against that kind of thing!” He shook his head. “No, that is impossible.”

“Look at the data yourself,” B’Elanna said, handing over the tricorder. “You can see the trace chroniton particles still on the boxes.”

Joe blanched as he looked at the data. “I don’t know how to explain this…”

“You’re going to have to,” Janeway said sternly. “Especially as it appears that we may have left some artifacts in the past.’

Joe’s face went even more pale. “Not everything has been accounted for?”

B’Elanna shook her head. “No. Without more precise equipment from the Department of Temporal Investigations, it’s going to be difficult to track exactly where and when the boxes ended up. We might have to make multiple temporal excursions to retrieve them.”

Janeway nodded in agreement, but before she could say anything, Tom spoke up. “It’s even possible that someone may have consumed the drinks in the meantime, which would make them irretrievable.”

“The question then becomes is if the timeline has been affected,” Chakotay pointed out.

“Only Commander Braxton can answer that question,” Janeway said. She massaged the bridge of her nose as if she felt a headache coming on.

“Braxton,” Joe said faintly, and it looked as if he might pass out.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Janeway said, her expression grim. “I’ve had a quite a few dealings with Braxton in the past and I can assure you that he _will_ have many questions for you, Mr. Carey. I hope your license for temporal excursions is up to date.” Her lips turned up slightly.

“If not, I’m happy to fast-track an application for you,” Chakotay offered.

“That, um, won’t be necessary,” Joe said, scuffing at the floor with the toe of his shiny boot. “I’m happy to answer any questions Braxton has for me.” He scanned the group. “But in the meantime, I’m going to have to ask you all to leave.” He glared at B’Elanna. “Especially _you_. You’d better get going before I call Security.”

B’Elanna dropped Tal’s tricorder on top of the boxes and held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, palms facing front. “You don’t have to ask twice, Joe.” She turned and headed towards the door, but found her way blocked by Jenny who was still training a fierce glare in her direction.

“What are you looking at?” B’Elanna said sharply as she brushed past. In her time at the DTV, she hadn’t gotten to know Jenny well at all, but just knowing that Jenny was dating Tom Paris really bugged her. She knew it was completely irrational feeling. After all, she’d only known Tom for a short time and any day now (hopefully) she’d be on her way off-planet. She sighed and was about to leave when she heard someone calling her name. She turned to see Chakotay heading towards her, and just behind him, she saw Tom stopping to talk to Jenny.

“B’Elanna,” Chakotay said a little breathlessly. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.” He slowed his pace. “What you did back there in the storeroom, that was very brave of you. You didn’t have to come back personally to let Joe know what was going on.”

“I know,” B’Elanna said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jenny march off in the opposite direction as Janeway approached Tom. “But I had to follow it through, you know? See if I was right?”

Chakotay smiled. “You certainly were.”

“Yeah,” B’Elanna said, and she wondered why it didn’t feel as good as it should have. “I was curious too. I’ve never dealt with temporal phenomena before. Read about it, certainly, but experienced it? No.”

“I’ve had a few experiences in my past,” Chakotay said. “Including an incident when the starship I was serving on was sliced into 27 different time frames. Now _that_ was something.”

“How did you resolve it?” B’Elanna asked.

“Teamwork,” Chakotay responded easily.

The word caught B’Elanna’s attention. “I wouldn’t have been able to figure out what was going on if Tom hadn’t given me the tracker,” she said slowly.

There was a twinkle in Chakotay’s eye. “Exactly.”

B’Elanna glanced back over her shoulder and saw Janeway touching Tom lightly on the shoulder before he moved away and headed in B’Elanna’s direction. He flashed a quick smile at her as he reached her side.

“Better get you out of here before security gives you the not-so-ceremonious boot off the premises,” Tom said easily. He reached out and shook Chakotay’s hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Um, before you go,” Chakotay said, a little hesitantly. “Could you look at my computer? It’s running really slowly, like there’s a weird delay between when I touch a control, and something happens.”

B’Elanna shifted her weight from one foot to another. “I really can’t…” and then after a moment, she thought, what the hell. “Let me give you some advice. When you put in a ticket, be _very_ specific about what the problem is, when it started, and what you think you need. Ask for more memory to be added to your machine; your workstation is so old, it should have been replaced years ago, but for some reason you aren’t on the upgrade list. Also, any old programs that are running in the background, remove them.” She offered him a small smile as she saw Admiral Janeway cutting off a trio of security officers. Next to her, she could feel Tom growing restless as he took in the scene. “It’s been great working with you, Chakotay.”

“Come on,” Tom said, his fingers cupping B’Elanna’s elbow as he gently steered back towards the door to the back dock. “I’ll give you a ride home.” After a few meters, he dropped his hand. “You handled that well.”

“Um, thanks. You were a big help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I’m just providing the getaway vehicle,” Tom said, quickening his pace.

Hearing the footsteps gaining on them, B’Elanna didn’t spare a backwards glance as she followed Tom – who was now running -- to the flitter.


	7. Chapter 7

B’Elanna gave the application a final review, and then she marked the box that indicated that everything she’d put into the form was true to the best of her knowledge. A second later, the application was on its way, and B’Elanna felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Starting over was something she’d done before; she could do it again. Now it was just a question of waiting for a response from the transport company.

She was still musing on her next steps when her personal comm device rang, jerking her out of her reverie. B’Elanna picked it up and was startled to hear Tom Paris’ voice on the other end.

“Hey, are you free right now?” he asked.

“`Free’?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m outside.”

“’`Outside?”

“Yeah, on the street.”

B’Elanna got up from her desk and in a few strides, was at the window that looked onto the busy street below. She scanned the street, and then spotted a sleek silver flitter hovering just above the traffic lanes and tipped at a precarious angle.

“What are you doing? You’re double parked!”

“I know. Are you free?”

“Free to do _what_?”

“I have a friend I want to introduce you to.”

B’Elanna blew out a puff of air in annoyance at the cryptic comment. _A friend_. The last time someone had said that to her, she’d ended up with Max Burke. Now that she had one foot off the planet, she wasn’t really interested in being introduced to _anyone_. “I’m not interested,” she said shortly.

“I promise you, it will be well worth your time.” Tom’s voice took on a silky tone. “It could be the start of a great new relationship.”

B’Elanna didn’t bother to tamp down her irritation. Just because he was happy with Jenny Delaney didn’t meant that she was also looking for a similar connection. In fact, he was making a considerable leap, _especially_ given how little they knew each other. “Look, a romantic relationship—”

“Who said anything about romance?” Tom sounded bewildered. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Admiral Janeway wants to talk with you.”

B’Elanna blinked in surprise. “Admiral Janeway? Didn’t I meet her yesterday?”

“Yeah,” he said. He paused. “I’m going to circle the block. So, if you’re interested, meet me down here in ten minutes.”

The comm device went quiet and B’Elanna saw Tom lift the flitter out of its illegal parking spot and head towards the end of the street. She couldn’t imagine why someone like Admiral Janeway would want to meet with her, but she was certainly curious. In a rush, B’Elanna pulled on a pair of brown boots over her close-fitting brown pants, and she changed from the grey tunic she was wearing to a more stylish top in a patchwork pattern of reds and browns. She splashed some water on her face, and ran a comb through her unruly hair, before grabbing her purse and heading out of the apartment.

True to his word, within a minute of B’Elanna stepping outside on the street, Tom pulled up in the flitter. He flashed a smile at her.

“Glad you changed your mind,” he said, as she scrambled into the seat next to him. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his usual coveralls, but instead wore a brightly patterned vest over a blue shirt and tan pants. Dark sunglasses completed the outfit.

“You’re not working today?” she asked.

Tom gently glided the flitter back into the traffic. “No. I actually incurred more than three warnings yesterday, and as I was already on probation, that means I’m out. I turned in my uniform this morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tom’s lips turned up a little bit. “Sometimes, things turn out for the best. That job and I weren’t really a match. Kind of like when I was a bartender.”

B’Elanna blinked at this new revelation. “When was that?”

“A few months ago. And before that I was a waiter in one of those new hip establishments – you know the kind where they don’t serve much in terms of actual food but what there is on the plate is very artistically arranged.” He smiled at her reaction. “After I got kicked out of Starfleet, I kind of bounced around a while. Tried a bunch of different things. Nothing stuck.” He shrugged. “Time for a new adventure.”

B’Elanna told him about finally sending in the job application in and he made some non-committal noises in response.

“What about you?” she asked, even though she understood that he didn’t have to share anything at all with her. “What are you going to be doing now?” But Tom seemed focused on navigating through a clump of heavy traffic and didn’t seem to hear the question. His brow furrowed in concentration and she watched how he very skillfully maneuvered the flitter through the crowded traffic lane. For all the stopping and starting, the ride was fairly smooth, but that seemed to be an element of skill versus technology. A sudden thought struck her.

“Is this your personal flitter?” she asked.

“Yup. A beauty, isn’t she? My father gave her to me as a gift when I entered the Academy.”

“It’s a great model.”

“I haven’t had much time to work on her while I’ve been at ABC, but there are some modifications I’d like to make. The navigation can sometimes be a little temperamental and the responsiveness is not as agile I’d like in certain situation.”

“Have you considered boosting the hydraulic flow to the cylinders in the inertial dampeners?” B’Elanna asked.

Tom shot her a sideways look. “No, why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking it might help in this kind of traffic. Smoother ride,” she said. Then, feeling self-conscious she added, “Look, if it’s a bad idea…”

“No,” Tom said quickly. “I like it. In fact, maybe later if you have time, you can show me what you’re talking about. Though,” he added, “the way things are going, this traffic should soon be a thing of the past.”

B’Elanna was going to ask again what he was referring to, but Tom brought the flitter to a stop in front of the Department of Temporal Investigations. B’Elanna raised her eyebrow.

“Trust me,” Tom said.

B’Elanna didn’t know if she should, but she followed him out of the flitter and into the building. The Department of Temporal Investigations, or DTI, was around the corner from the DTV, but B’Elanna had never been inside. She had overheard many stories though from the various people who had been summoned to the giant marble and glass edifice after violating some temporal directive or another. It then struck her: she’d been involved in a temporal anomaly and didn’t hold a license. Kahless, they were probably going to haul her up on charges. She hesitated, considering making a break for it, but then glancing at Tom, decided to chance it. She sucked in her breath and matched her step with Tom’s as he approached the receptionist seated behind a glass counter.

“Tom Paris to see Admiral Janeway. She’s expecting me,” Tom said smoothly.

“Very well. Have a seat over there.” The receptionist gestured to a battery of grey and white sofas and armchairs off to the side. Colorful greenery surrounded the space and paintings of color splats against white canvas decorated the walls. The environment was designed to be soothing but B’Elanna felt anything but relaxed. In fact, as she took in the clean architectural lines of the building and the carefully arranged decorations, she felt her shoulder muscles tense up.

“Don’t you think it’s time you told me what was going on?” she demanded.

“I’m sure Janeway will explain everything shortly.”

B’Elanna’s nostrils flared slightly. “Look, _you_ were the one who showed up unannounced at _my_ door. I think you owe me the courtesy of telling me what’s going on.”

Tom held his hands out in a gesture of supplication. “I wish I could,” he said, turning his head as they heard someone approaching. “Janeway didn’t give me very many details.”

“B’Elanna Torres?”

She looked up to see a young man in a Starfleet uniform standing in front of her. The yellow turtleneck beneath his grey jacket indicated he was in Operations. He had one pip on his collar.

“I’m Harry Kim,” he said, “Admiral Janeway’s aide. If you will follow me, please.”

Tom rose to come with her, but Harry shook his head.

“Just Ms. Torres,” he said.

“I guess I’ll wait for you here,” Tom said, his expression a bit sheepish. It surprised her that he would wait, now that he’d clearly discharged his duty by bringing her here, but she nodded a quick _thank you_ at him and followed Ensign Harry Kim behind the security doors. Harry led her to an inner door painted an incongruous bright blue and then entered a code. The doors swished opened and Harry gestured for B’Elanna to enter.

“Ah, B’Elanna,” Admiral Janeway was seated at a conference table, flanked by two men. “Thank you for coming. May I introduce Agents Lucsly and Dulmur?”

“Hello,” B’Elanna said. Both men fixed dour expressions on her.

“Please,” Janeway said, gesturing towards an empty chair. “Have a seat.” She cleared her throat as B’Elanna sat. “You must be wondering why I asked you here today.”

“The thought _has_ crossed my mind,” B’Elanna said.

“Well, let me cut to the chase. Lucsly and Dulmur are among the best and brightest when it comes to temporal investigations,” Janeway said briskly. She took a sip from her mug. “They have located your missing boxes of _raktacinnos_.”

“They’re not mine, actually. Neelix, the guy in charge of the cafeteria, ordered them so he should be considered the owner of record.”

Janeway dismissed the comment. “You should know they were found in a Seattle coffee house in the late twentieth century.” She smiled at B’Elanna. “Your calculations, while approximate, allowed us to narrow the possibilities down very quickly and resolve this temporal incursion before the timeline was irretrievably contaminated.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” B’Elanna said.

Lucsly pushed a napkin towards her. “This is where we found the drinks,” he said.

The napkin was embossed with a white line drawing of a mythical figure against a green circle. B’Elanna’s eyes widened as she immediately recognized the logo of a favored coffee shop not too far from her apartment. “Now that you mention it, I’ve had a drink there that does taste a lot like a _raktacinnos_.”

Janeway nodded. “We were able to retrieve all but one of the missing boxes of _raktacinnos_ , however, we are satisfied that the timeline contamination has been minimal,” she said. “Thanks to you.” She paused, fixing B’Elanna with a clear-eyed stare. “Why did you do it? Why did you come back to the DTV after you’d already been banned from the building? You didn’t have to come personally; you could have just sent a message to your friends inside.”

“As I told Chakotay, I had to see it through,” B’Elanna said.

“Most people wouldn’t want to risk a temporal violation on their records,” Janeway pointed out.

“I’m not _most_ people.” B’Elanna lifted her chin defiantly.

“I can see that,” Janeway said. She nodded at Lucsly and Dulmur. “Thank you, gentlemen. You’re dismissed.” The two grim-faced men left and once the doors closed behind them, Janeway leaned forward, her forearms resting on the table and her fingers knitted together. “I’ve recently taken on the assignment of leading the Department of Temporal Investigations.”

“What about Braxton?”

“Reassigned,” Janeway said briskly. “Poor man couldn’t seem to cope with the common stresses of temporal fluxes. To be perfectly honest, this department desperately needs new talent. I’d like to ask you to consider joining my senior staff. I need someone with your skills, your ability to take responsibility for a situation.” With a small smile she added, “Also, that you seemed fearless when it came to dealing with temporal phenomena. It gives _me_ a headache.”

B’Elanna stared at Janeway in amazement. “You want _me_ to join your senior staff?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t finish the Academy—”

“I’m aware of that. You should know that Professor Chapman is a good friend of mine and he said you were one of the best students he ever had. He was sorry you left before finishing your course of study.”

“My civilian record isn’t exactly stellar,” B’Elanna said unhappily. “You should also know I punched my former manager Joe Carey—”

“I’m aware of that too,” Janeway said. “That did give me pause, but Chakotay assured me it was not a typical action for you.” She looked expectantly at B’Elanna. “Chakotay speaks very highly of you and he doesn’t give praise lightly.”

B’Elanna blushed. “That’s very nice of him.”

“I want the best people on my team,” Janeway said. “Tom will lead flight operations, and I’d like you to lead the Engineering department.” She leaned forward even more. “What do you say?”

B’Elanna blinked. Tom had accepted a job at the DTI? While she was processing this information, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I just applied for a job off-planet, at a transport company.”

“Someone with your skills shouldn’t settle for something so mundane,” Janeway said firmly. “Don’t you _want_ something more?”

“Um, of course, I mean, yes,” B’Elanna said. “But staying on Earth isn’t for me.”

“Who said anything about staying on Earth?” Janeway asked. “The DTI runs plenty of missions off planet, not to mention in different time periods.” She leaned forward. “We have the latest technology here, the greatest minds assembled, all dedicated to make sure the timeline remains as pristine as possible. The opportunities we could offer you at the DTI would be a wonderful adventure, B’Elanna. You would really choose a job at a transport company over what I’m offering you?”

B’Elanna’s mouth felt dry but she finally managed to say, “No, of course not.” She cleared her throat, coughed a little. “I’d have to withdraw my application.”

“Tell them you accepted another offer,” Janeway said. She fixed B’Elanna with a penetrating gaze. “You won’t regret this.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Good,” Janeway said. She rose from her seat. “Report back here Monday morning at 0800. I can offer you a field commission with the rank of lieutenant. Under the circumstances, it is the best I can do.”

“I appreciate it,” B’Elanna said.

“This is a Starfleet operation,” Janeway said. “I expect you to follow all of the rules and regulations. We are likely to embark on a very important mission in coming days, one in which the very fate of the galaxy is at stake. I want the very best people at my side. You should know that I’ve asked Chakotay to accompany us as well as my chief of staff.”

B’Elanna managed to keep her expression carefully neutrally. “I’m glad he’s coming along.”

“Then we’re agreed. Welcome to the team.”

After discussing a few other details regarding her employment, Janeway touched a control on her desk. “Ensign Kim, please escort Ms. Torres back to the lobby.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Janeway winced. “It’s not crunch time yet, Ensign. I’ll tell you when it is.”

True to his word, Tom was still waiting for her. He looked genuinely excited to see her.

“Well? What did you say?”

“You’re not the only one with a new adventure,” B’Elanna said finally, and then finally let a broad smile cross her face.

Tom let out a whoop. “I was hoping you’d agree,” he said. “Think about it, we’ll get to work together. Your engineering expertise, my flying skills…” He was standing awfully close to her now and B’Elanna could feel the blood rushing through her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a step back, “it will be great.”

“It’s better than great!” Tom exclaimed. He grabbed B’Elanna in a bear hug and swung her around. She quickly pulled herself free, but Tom seemed caught up in the moment. “This is going to be great. When Janeway stopped me yesterday at the DTV after we located the boxes and said she wanted to talk, I had no idea what she was going to say.” He grinned. “For a moment, I thought my father had sent her to lecture me on how I was a disgrace to the Paris name.”

“And now you’re going to pilot a starship,” B’Elanna said.

“Not just any starship! A state-of-the-art starship, equipped with ablative armor, temporal shielding, bio-neural gel packs.” Tom’s eyes gleamed. “There’s some discussion about cognitive piloting, pilot and ship as one? But that’s just early thoughts for now. But just imagine. I just _think_ something, and the ship responds.”

“What could go wrong?” B’Elanna asked wryly, but in his excitement, Tom didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, I was thinking about renting a convertible and taking a drive down to the coastal highway this weekend,” Tom said as they walked out into the bright sunlight. The flitter gleamed so brightly that B’Elanna had to shield her eyes. “Do you want to come? I was thinking we could start early in the morning, grab lunch in Carmel, cross the Big Sur… the views are spectacular, and the weather is supposed to be fantastic this weekend.”

It did sound like a lot of fun and B’Elanna wanted to say yes, but something stopped her. “What about Jenny?”

Tom looked bewildered. “What about Jenny? Do you want to invite her?”

“No, but she’s your girlfriend. Sounds like a trip you should be taking with her.”

Tom’s expression turned from confusion to humor. “I’m not dating Jenny.”

“Seska said you were.”

Tom shook his head. “We’re friends from the Academy. We went out a couple times in our second year, but decided we were better off friends. We belong to the same holodeck programming league and so we still keep in close touch.”

“But I saw you the other night going to dinner—”

“ _After_ our monthly league meeting. A group of us meet up for dinner, just to catch up. In fact, Jenny’s just met someone. Freddy Bristow. Do you know him?” Tom asked.

B’Elanna did indeed know Freddy; he sat in the desk next to Chakotay’s at the DTV. He’d asked her out once while she was working on Chakotay’s computer and B’Elanna had been so irritated by the young man breaking her concentration that she’d snapped at him. She and Freddy hadn’t exchanged as much as a good morning since then. “I’m surprised Seska didn’t know that.”

“Looks like she’s operating on bad information.” Tom entered the code to pop the flitter doors open. “Look, if this road trip isn’t your thing, just say so.” He flashed a smile at her. “Maybe you prefer Lake Como.” He slid into the pilot’s seat, keeping his eye on her as she got into hers. “Think about it. The weekend’s still a day or so away. Take your time.”

But B’Elanna didn’t need to think about it any longer. She said yes. 


	8. Epilogue

B’Elanna kicked off her shoes as she sunk thankfully into the comfortable sofa. The trip down the California coast had been fantastic and as promised, the views spectacular. Tom had put the convertible’s roof down as they’d crossed the Bixby Creek Bridge and B’Elanna had loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. For the first time in years, she dared to hope that maybe things were looking up.

Now, back in her apartment on Sunday night, she tipped her head back, her eyes closing in relaxation. The three days on the road had been exhilaratingly active – whether exploring the many trails along the way or hiking down to the Pacific’s edge to beachcomb for jade – and B’Elanna felt exhausted in the best possible way. There had also been that moment when Tom had pulled the red Mustang to facing an overlook and they had watched grey whales swim by. Tom had swung his arm casually along the top of her seat, and she may have leaned little closer to him. The day turned into evening and Tom suggested dinner at a restaurant overlooking the ocean. Then, tired, and full of wine, they spent the night at a B&B in Big Sur; the first night Tom took the sofa. The second night, in a different B&B, she curled into him, listening to his breath, her hand on his chest. She had realized at the time that this trip would add a new complication to their working relationship, but she would worry about that later.

Even though she knew she needed to unpack and prepare for her new duties in the morning, B’Elanna remained still, reliving every moment of the road trip – the conversations, the laughter, and just how fun it had been to be with someone who seemed to want nothing more than her company. She was still thinking about it when her comm device buzzed.

“B’Elanna, I know it’s late,” Chakotay said with urgency.

“It’s ok. I wanted to talk to you anyway and thank you for recommending me to Janeway.”

“You deserve it,” Chakotay said. “I think the role Janeway offered you is a better match to your skills than what you were doing at the DTV.”

“I appreciate it. I really do.”

“The news has already made the rounds at the office,” Chakotay said. “Neelix and Tal Celes are very happy for you.”

“Let me guess, Seska and Michael aren’t.”

“No, but not for the reasons you think. It turns out the two of them have been gaming the system,” Chakotay said, a note of glee slipping into their voice. “Apparently they’ve been entering and answering their own tickets. They’ve both been reprimanded and now Tal is the number one tech in that department.”

Now that she thought about it, B’Elanna wanted to kick herself. _Of course,_ Seska and Michael had manipulated the system. It was the only thing that made sense – the only way they could have answered so many tickets before she and Tal even logged in.

“Wow. What did Joe say?” B’Elanna asked. Her former manager had always held up Seska and Michael as the most perfect of employees. Clearly that had been shattered now.

“He’s been demoted, and Vorik is taking over the department now.” Chakotay lowered his voice. “We’ll see how he does. Vulcans are notorious for running tight ships. You’ll find that’s also true regarding Janeway’s security officer, Tuvok. He is extremely good but very much ‘by the book’ also.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” B’Elanna said. “That’s going to be the toughest part for me, operating according to Starfleet regulations.” _That_ _and navigating around Tom Paris_ , she thought, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell Chakotay that.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Chakotay said warmly. “I have faith in you.” He paused. “Speaking of by the book, I know I’m you’re not in the IT support group anymore, but I’m finishing things up here before I take up my new duties at the DTI, and I just got a notice on my computer that says all of my files have been encrypted. It says I have 72 hours to contact the Grand Nagus…”


End file.
